


Warmth In The Darkness

by coolbreezemage



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Comfort Sex, Explicit Consent, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nightmares, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), referenced Felix/Sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbreezemage/pseuds/coolbreezemage
Summary: "I... I won't be one of your dalliances. Nor will I have you do this out of some misguided idea of duty."Sylvain snorts. "Who said anything about duty? I'm offering this 'cause I want to." At the brief expression of surprise that Dimitri can't hide, he pouts. "What, you think I only go with girls? You're a very attractive man, Your Highness."Now he knows he has to be imagining things. "Enough flattery," he says."Couldn't agree more," Sylvain says, and there's something dangerous in that grin. "Let's get started."
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 168





	Warmth In The Darkness

Dimitri jerks awake, sweating and sick, from yet another hideous dream. He scrubs at his eyes and struggles to catch his breath, counting it a small blessing that at least this time he didn't cry out and disturb any of his sleeping comrades camped in nearby tents.

And then he hears movement. Shame floods him when he remembers that he's not alone. Sylvain, standing watch - well, sitting - at the mouth of the tent they're sharing, glances back at him. 

"Hey," Sylvain begins, gentle, cheerful, quiet. "You all right?"

He's not and he knows it but there's no way he can simply say that. No way he can burden others with what is his alone to bear. He looks away and forces himself to breathe, letting Sylvain's voice tie him to reality. He needs to sleep if he's to be of any use against the bandits they hope to intercept in the morning, but the thought of falling back into the horror that lurks behind his eyes makes him shudder. 

“Sylvain," he says at last. "Let me take watch and you can get some rest. I… I can’t sleep anyway.”

It feels like a greater admission than it is. As if his oldest friends don't already know how often he wakes tormented by a past that still clings to him with the stench of fire. How often he can't sleep at all for the voices clamoring in his head.

Back at the monastery, Sylvain shares a wall with him. As humiliating as it is, he can't imagine he hasn't heard him.

Sylvain smiles easily at him. “Ah, Your Highness, you shouldn’t say such things. Encouraging me to laziness? I might have to start to worry you’ve been replaced by a ghost.” 

Perhaps he has been. He shivers. 

A moment passes in quiet, and then Sylvain stands, unfolding his long limbs in a single fluid motion and walks the few steps to Dimitri's bedside. Still smiling, he reaches out a hand to Dimitri's shoulder. The touch burns, suddenly worlds more real than anything else. Dimitri remains still, pinned in place by that gaze. 

"Shit, you're so cold," Sylvain says with a shaky laugh. "We need to fix that."

Dimitri doesn't feel cold, not when he's soaked in sweat and sour fear, but then Sylvain lifts his blankets and the cold air rushing in makes him shiver violently. 

Before he can protest, Sylvain has wiggled himself into place beside him and wrapped his arms around his chest. His breath is warm on Dimitri's neck. It's sudden and overwhelming but... it's also very, very good. 

"Sy-" he starts, but Sylvain hushes him. 

"Don't worry, I can still keep watch from here. You just relax."

There are so many reasons why they shouldn't be doing this, but Dimitri can't bring himself to voice any of them. 

Sylvain next to him is solid and warm and a distraction from the dreams that still whisper and tug at him from the back of his mind. He offers comfort freely. What can Dimitri do but submit to it?

The world narrows to the pressure of Sylvain's arms around him and the restless fluttering of his heart. This is hardly appropriate. He should reject it, he should choke and sputter and order Sylvain off of him, but he wants it too much to resist and anyway he's half-convinced this is yet another dream, in which case there's no harm in letting Sylvain continue doing whatever is it he's doing. 

How is it that this could feel so good? Sylvain holds him tightly and for several long, long, moments, everything is comfortable and calm. And then all at once Dimitri becomes aware of the restless heat growing between his legs, where Sylvain's weight against him is most palpable. Desire, need, squirms within him, unmistakable and unignorable. He tenses, tries to pull away, face burning as his body betrays him yet again. 

"I'm- I'm sorry, I don't..." He curls in on himself as if that could hide it, though of course it hides nothing.

Sylvain, mercifully, doesn't seem bothered. Quite the opposite, in fact, Dimitri notes when he dares to look at him. 

"Hey, hey, calm down. It's okay. This is good, I can work with this."

"What do you-" Belatedly, he takes Sylvain's meaning. The blush spreads to his neck and his throat goes dry. 

Sylvain leans back and props up his chin on his hand, studying Dimitri with a considering eye. Suddenly all Dimitri can feel is the rough rhythm of his breath and the hot longing in his belly. 

“Dimitri," Sylvain says, slowly, casually, but with enough weight for Dimitri to know he's serious. Just the sound of his name in that tone is enough to make him shiver again. "I can make you feel good, and you'll sleep better afterwards. But you’re gonna have to let me take control, okay? If you don't like that idea, you can tell me to stop, and we can forget all about it. But I don't think you do."

It is, Dimitri is ashamed to admit, deeply tempting. He swallows. "I... I won't be one of your dalliances. Nor will I have you do this out of some misguided idea of duty..."

Sylvain snorts. "Who said anything about duty? I'm offering this 'cause I want to." At the brief expression of surprise that Dimitri can't hide, he pouts. "What, you think I only go with girls? You're a very attractive man, Your Highness."

Now he knows he has to be imagining things. "Enough flattery," he says. 

"Couldn't agree more," Sylvain says, and there's something dangerous in that grin. "Let's get started."

Before Dimitri can fully register the words, Sylvain rolls over and presses him down into the bedding. His loose nightshirt comes off easily and is quickly forgotten in a pile by the pillow. 

And then there's long fingers tracing down his stomach, tugging his pants down, brushing against his cock. It needs very little encouragement to stand fully erect. 

Sylvain's fingers slide against something far, far too sensitive. Dimitri suppresses a yelp, screwing his eyes shut at the intensity of the sensations licking at every raw nerve. 

"Too fast?" Sylvain pauses, circles his hand far, far too softly just above where Dimitri needs him. 

Despite himself, Dimitri whines with need, trying useless to swallow the sound a moment later. "No, more, please..."

Almost outside of his control, his hips strain upwards, desperate for that touch, that pressure. 

"Ooh, you want that, don't you?" Sylvain teases. It shouldn't be as hot as it is, but Dimitri is beyond caring, not when he's grinding himself shamelessly into Sylvain's hand. 

To Dimitri's relief, Sylvain doesn't ask any more questions, only continues his blissful, too-good attentions, kneading and rubbing, alternating between too-light teasing and near-overpowering friction, all the while muttering encouragements in Dimitri's ear, tiny bits of praise that make his heart pound all the harder. 

The sensation grows, sweet and rich and deep enough to swallow up all of Dimitri's wandering thoughts and narrow his focus to the hands on him and the delicious tension building under them. 

And then that tension snaps in an overwhelming burst of heat and need and intoxicating pleasure. 

With a wrenching gasp, he comes harder than he ever has for himself. Sylvain holds him through the blinding surge of it, rubbing and caressing until he's given all he can and is left dizzy and panting against the pillows. 

"Yeah, feels good, doesn't it?" Sylvain says in his ear, sounding very pleased with himself. Dimitri can't blame him. 

Slowly, he finds his breath again, and enough sensation returns for him to feel Sylvain's cock still hard against his hip. 

"You- you still need- shouldn't I-" he tries, but his brain won't form the right words. Fortunately, his meaning is obvious. 

"Oh, you've given me enough to go on for a long time."

That hums through him warm and rich, that Sylvain thinks him appealing enough to give him the same sort of pleasure he's just given Dimitri. But as for now... he's still hard, and after what he's done Dimitri doesn't want him to go unfulfilled. 

"Don't deny yourself..." he manages, shifting slightly against Sylvain's erection. 

Sylvain smiles. "If you insist."

His hand snakes back down between them. He holds himself this time, rutting against his palm and Dimitri's hip until he comes with a shudder and a small grunt. Dimitri feels his seed pool against his skin. They're going to have to wash everything well in the morning, but right now he can't bring himself to care. 

Sylvain makes as if to pull away, and urgent fear stabs into Dimitri's chest at the sudden wave of loneliness that threatens to crash down on him. 

"Stay. Stay. Please," he begs. It's unbecoming of a prince but he figures that as he's just had his childhood friend bring him to orgasm with his hands it can hardly be much of a crime. 

Mercifully, Sylvain lays himself back down against Dimitri's side and pulls him close. 

"Shh, I'm here. You liked that?"

"Very much," Dimitri answers. It's still a struggle to rouse the energy to speak. "Thank you."

"Good." Sylvain tucks his clean hand behind Dimitri's neck, his thumb sweeping soothing circles into the muscle. Dimitri goes limp against him, determined to savor every moment of whatever this strange thing is, this thing he doesn't know if he will ever have again. 

He feels a laugh ripple through Sylvain's chest. "Damn, you're cuddly. Almost as bad as Felix."

Dimitri tenses, embarrassed enough to miss the last part of that statement. 

"No, it's good, I like it," Sylvain reassures him, and he relaxes again. "I just wish I knew that before. Could've used that on that campaign up north."

Dimitri doesn't reply, only closes his eyes and lets the warmth sink deep into his body. 

Sylvain shifts, and before Dimitri can figure out what he's doing he's pressed a brief kiss to Dimitri's cheek. "If this is what you wanted, you should have told me sooner. I would have done it for you, Dimitri."

"How did you know?" Dimitri asks, and he's not sure what he's asking, but Sylvain seems to know either way. 

"What you needed? I know I'm a useless layabout most of the time, but I am watching out for you. All of you," he says, and he doesn't need to explain for Dimitri to know he means Felix, Ingrid, all the rest of the Lions. 

"You're not useless," Dimitri insists through clouded, sleepy thoughts. 

Sylvain sighs. "I am, but it's nice to hear you say that."

"Don't think this means I approve of your activities..." Dimitri reminds him, though any sternness is spoiled by the yawn that interrupts the words. 

"Oh, don't worry, I know," Sylvain says, fond rather than annoyed. "Rest, Dimitri. I'll keep watch."

Dimitri settles himself against Sylvain's side. His head is quiet for the first time in weeks. And as Sylvain promised, he soon drifts into heavy, peaceful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Discord: https://discord.gg/H2ydxcZ


End file.
